To Love a Lie
by LunaCallisto
Summary: If ever there was a difference between love and lust, between body and heart, she never mentioned it. YamixOC
1. Chapter 1

He hated the very bar he was sitting in.

Hated the stench of humanity, the overbearing density of the crushed air, the heavy darkness that was pierced only by a screen hung on the wall, much too big, much too loud.

He hated it more than he could ever comprehend, yet he went there every weekend, every time, without exception.

Its name flashed in bright red neon letters, reflecting itself upon the myriad of ponds that curled up in the dents of the pavement, shimmering and shivering with every gust of wind that caressed the busy city.

A veil even darker than the insides of the bar draped itself over the dimming night, extinguishing even the brightest of stars, reminding the city's vivid youth just how late it truly was. Not the moon, not the clouds, stained the impeccable night sky, making it hard to imagine that the humble colors of dawn would soon penetrate the fortress.

A plume of dense smoke emanated from an ivory cigarette sitting between the lips of the man positioned in front of him, lips that had not stopped muttering senseless slurs laced with the overpowering stench of alcohol since their arrival.

Slowly, he let his eyelids connect to the tender skin underneath his amethyst eyes as he lifted the dark bottle to his lips and relished in the burning pleasure that the liquid provoked as it slid down his throat, stealthily reminding him of the buzz that had long since begun ringing in his own mind and would soon deposit him in the same state of the man now calling his name.

"Motou...Motou,where is that idiot with our drinks? Suzy here is getting _restless_." He muttered, slithering the last word into the ear of a giggling brunette who's hazy eyes gleamed with perdition.0

Yami glared at the drunken pair, not mentioning that the idiot in question was their friend and that the woman in question was not at all named Suzy, simply answering with only another sip from the icy bottle sweating between his slim fingers.

A powerful bass line bellowed throughout the small, cramped bar, swaying the entire dance floor and echoing off Yami's eardrums, building a comforting hum inside his skull, scaring away his distant doubts, his distant problems. Wiping his mind clean of the haunting images that clung so hopelessly to the corners of his mind, easing the dreaded pace of his torn heart.

Perhaps the reason for his constant attendance to the bar he so wastefully dreaded, resided in that very sensation of forget, of distance from the real world that lay outside the pair of wooden doors that swung playfully, teasingly.

Perhaps. Perhaps not.

The hurried buzzing in his mind grew louder and louder, much too loud to argue with his thoughts, much too loud to agree with them, assuring Yami that he would never know he answer to his questions.

A boisterous laugh cracked the shell surrounding his senses, bringing his attention back to the person approaching their table, frown on his face, drinks in hand.

"Damn jerks. You might try getting your own drinks next time." He scowled, sliding the bottles across the table, leaving behind a wet streak that Yami couldn't help but admire as it reflected the rainbow of colors that descended from the inordinate screen.

Duke Devlin, cigarette burning elegantly between his fingers, gave the men as slick a smile as he could, smoke slithering into the air through the gaps in his teeth, like a seething dragon proud of his deeds, the ring hanging from his nostril only adding to his illusion.

"Tell me then, my dear friend, what purpose would you serve?" He said with an almost coy tone, the woman beside him laughing with more enthusiasm than she should have.

Tristan Taylor scoffed as he smuggled himself into the tightness of the rows on his way to his seat, long since accustomed to Duke's toxic incoherence, simply sharing a knowing glance with Yami, who was beginning to lose touch with reality himself.

The sky outside rumbled loudly with pride as if it had finally found a way to scare off the humans who felt they could defy the solitude that the eerie night demanded.

A flash of lightning illuminated the thick, oncoming clouds, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

Flirtatious giggles, bare legs, abundant bosoms, high heels, luscious lipstick, plastic perfume.

Everything that knew how to tickle his senses seemed to lie on the other side of the window carved on the wall that ended their table, reminding him that there was but one thing missing in his weekend routine.

His eager eyes wrapped themselves around everything and everyone they could, quenching their passionate thirst with mere glimpses of the night he could be having.

Another laugh reached his ears, feeling like a pin was trying to make its way in, the hum reverberating through his skull suddenly losing its earlier comfort, the room surrounding him slowly spinning.

Instinctively he clenched his eyes shut, willing, forcing his body to regain its posture despite the thickness of alcohol that swam through his veins, making his blood dreary.

A sharp tug on his sleeve obliged him to return to reality, his eyes opening to meet with those of Duke who were shining with an instinct Yami knew all to well.

With a mere shake of his head he pointed to the screen across the room, a fiery smirk already gliding across his face as he settled back into his seat and placed his cigarette firmly between his lips.

Yami turned and instantly felt his body soothe at the sight of the woman who's face donned the screen, her playful expression and daring eyes feeling like they were purposely digging into Yami.

_Diana Kaiba._

Cousin to Seto Kaiba, though the last name was far from the only thing they shared.

Both known for their explosive tempers, their harsh manners when it came to people, both sitting atop empires, both orphans.

Sitting at a lengthy white table, she was surrounded by microphones of different colors and shapes, all of them gathered in a circle around her, as if they were eager to absorb her every word.

The sound was muted and overpowered by music, leaving Yami to guess at what her teasing lips were trying to communicate, though by the expression seething from her eyes and the flashing red headlines at the bottom of the screen, it was not good news.

Yami glared at the screen, simply mesmerized by how gracefully her features danced as she spoke, knowing Duke's gaze sat patiently on him, for his attraction to the Kaiba was common knowledge amongst his closest friends.

His eyes traveled the screen seconds longer before they began to resent the harsh brightness that contrasted all too strongly to the darkness of the surrounding bar, forcing his eyes to peel their attention from the screen and back into the welcoming darkness, greeted with yet another wave of smoke.

"Quite the beauty isn't she?" Duke teased as he flicked his cigarette toward the ashtray sitting in the center of the mahogany table.

Yami felt the his body heat rise to his cheeks, travel his neck, then descend toward the rest of his body, although whether it was from the alcohol or the woman he was not sure.

In the form of a spontaneous smirk he answered his friend's question, their locked gazes playing with the same idea, though it was Duke who turned thoughts into words.

"Makes you wonder what she's like in bed, doesn't it?" He slithered, the lust of his thoughts sliding from his teeth.

The same smirk that earlier donned Yami's lips took a darker hue, his expression complying with Duke's suggestion, his answer glowing plainly across his face.

A muffled chuckle puffed Duke's cheeks, stretching his chapped lips into a wide smile, like a father proud of his son's deeds. The invigorating smell of alcohol penetrated Yami's nostrils as the man leaned in, his eyes hungry with instinct.

"I'll tell you what," he rasped, like an eager child willing to share a secret, "I'm willing to bet you can get her into bed with you."

Yami stared blankly at his friends prowling expression, skimming through the uttered words as if written in his eyes, patiently waiting for the remainder of his friend's proposition.

"If she opens those Kaiba Banks in the near future and follows Kaiba Corps original business plan, chances are Devlin Inc. will miss this quarters mark." He rasped, eyes set ablaze and voice donning a chillingly striking sobriety.

"I need to get a hold of even a _draft_ of whatever business plan she's set to follow. I tried the shareholders we have in common but I'm not getting a word out of those bastards and I _need_ to know how many of my clients will scurry to her side like rats in a stampede." He said, the urgency on his tongue sounding to Yami like those very rats were fleeing from his mouth, searching for his reason.

Duke's eyes pried violently into his, skipping past the obvious and running towards the mischievous.

"Can you do it?" He seethed, words taking the shape of a command.

Yami swallowed rough and heavy, forcing his mind to shed the alcohol's poison long enough to make a rash decision, to see the beacon of reason that would guide him to an answer.

Many a times Yami had rushed to his friend's expertise in running a business. For the savvy wit he possessed in the face of a challenge, Duke possessed in the field of money, of negotiations and flowing sums. The names Duke held atop his fingertips were of vital necessity for Yami and his future empire, names that Duke had never hesitated to release to him.

When Yami ruled Duel Monsters with skill and wisdom, Duke warped the game into a lucrative business, a skill he tainted onto everything he did.

A deep breath rushed into his lungs, his eyes taking one last sip of the mesmerizing woman that now faded out of shot. His ego swelled inside his chest, its poison reassuring his ability to meet the challenge, to repay a friend.

"Done."

Duke simply nodded as if the answer were the one anticipated, his cigarette sitting between his fingers, patiently awaiting the pull of his lips.

"You have one week."

Yami's smile faltered, like the neon sign that hung outside.

_"Done._" He repeated.


	2. Chapter 2

The rain crashed recklessly onto the soaked pavement, drumming its fury into the Earth's entrails with every rush of lightning that poisoned the white sky above. The wind ran around her with a crazed passion that seeped into her waving hair, spitting it against the cold of her pink cheeks, against cold, swollen lips.

Her honey smeared eyes peeked out from beneath the umbrella fortress that kept her hidden from the rain's rage, scanning the empire that stood before her, its tip long lost in the depths of the city sky, its bold name releasing heavy drops that collided harshly with the world beneath.

As her gaze returned to the gleaming entrance that awaited her arrival, her lips stole a fragment of the fierce wind shouting around her, hoping to feed the skittish courage that she knew she would need to talk to the man waiting inside.

His stale voice had commanded only three stiff words into her ear when he called earlier that morning, not bothering to say hello, not bothering to say goodbye, but leaving the dead tone of the telephone line as a palpitating warning if she were not to heed his orders.

_"Get over here."_

So here she stood, cold, anxious and alone.

Not wanting to stay outside, yet not completely wanting to go in, for the harsh weather she now stood prey to, she knew, would not compare to the chill that would overwhelm her inside.

As the knot in her stomach grew tighter, and the thunder above louder, the imposing digital clock that guarded the main entrance flashed as yet another minute melted away into the pending storm, reminding her that time was of the very essence.

With one last breath full of bravery she made her way in as the sliding doors slithered open to receive her, to deposit her in the dragon's den.

As the doors behind her closed, the rampage of noises outside immediately stripped down to only the click of her heels on the marble floor as she advanced further into the luscious lobby of the Kaiba Corporation.

The glow that lit the room was one of sheer elegance, oblivious to the wreckage outside, discreet yet imposing, quiet yet loud.

Just like him.

As she gathered nervous stares from the surrounding employees it seemed confidence leaked, fleeing from her every pore, despite her best attempts at freezing it unto her skin like the mask that was signature of a Kaiba.

One foot in front of the other, she strode her way towards the elevator, head held high, gaze held forward, ignorant to the whispers and looks stemming from the people around her.

As she stepped closer, her heel wavered before finally stabbing the carpeted floor of the lonesome elevator, depositing her in an eerie silence as the doors quietly slid shut, confining her only to the nervous squeal of her veins as they squirmed inside her, shifting and turning with every push and tug of the elevator as it meekly ascended to the top floor.

It seemed the chill of her cousin's ego spilled unto the entire building, for even in the confines of the elevator her bones felt their delicate lining crust with ice.

She didn't visit very often and scarcely glanced at the building when she drove by, she felt the menacing vigor of her relative protruded even onto the blackened street below.

A tinge in her heart felt angst at the simple thought of having to work in the corporation, of performing tasks under his harrowing gaze, his heavy pressure. She scarcely mingled with him when at home, which frankly he wasn't very much, without considering the thought of having to spend the majority of your time encircled with his ice.

A sorrowful sigh escaped her lips while trembling fingers clutched at the coat that clung to her body as the final chime rang threateningly in her ears.

The doors once again slid open, the brightness that immediately stung at her eyes willing them closed, for the office walls were naught but infinite extensions of glass, letting in the pale emblem of winter, the unfathomable white sky.

For an instant it felt as if the elevator, that now slid discreetly back downward, had deposited her not in the posh lobby of a hushed office, but in a faraway fragment of the sky, of heaven perhaps.

The thick fog of the bleary day was the only thing surrounding the Kaiba Tower, the only thing visible no matter how hard her eyes strained to see the city she knew slept below the volatile blanket.

The androgynous light gave the office an even more boundless feeling, one of complete blankness.

She forced a gulp down her throat as she willed her long legs forward into the powerful stench of the CEO's office.

A mourning silence lingered 'round the room, broken only by the constant clashing of a woman's nails with the keys of a keyboard.

Her shaky steps no longer emanated any sounds, for the dark carpet beneath her muffled any sound that dare disturb the divine peace that filled the lobby.

Her breaths seemed few and far apart, her thumping heart reminding her of the daggers the man sitting behind the wooden door, was able to inflict.

His secretary had long since stopped questioning her visits, her identity, for her cousin had done the sensible thing and recognized their familiarity when he considered it most convenient, a move impulsed by brain rather than heart, no doubt.

Now, only a solitary and pitiful gaze was directed her way, for many a time the woman had seen her emerge with tears in her eyes, with pain in her brow. She knew the things she'd heard, the shouts, the venom.

Burying the memories in the depths of her mind, she took the final steps toward the door, raising her clenched fist, noticing for the first time the white hue that had stained her knuckle, one that matched the sky she seemed to hover on.

Killing her hesitation once it began to irritate her, she let her fist clash with the hard wood, again and again until she heard the familiar response come from the other side.

"Come in." He said, distant and void. His tone of voice wise to her identity.

Her slim hand slid down the wood until it reached the cold metal doorknob, gripping it like her last lifeline and turning it.

Glass walls, soft carpet and impeccable furniture greeted her quivering eyes. Had he not been sitting at the front of the long desk she would have thought the office inhabited.

His long fingers danced on a keyboard like a musician on a piano, his gaze fixed on the screen that reflected its contents upon his pale blue eyes. Strands of chocolate grazed hair teased at his lashes, though he seemed anything but bemused, for a frown as dark and deep as the sea stretched across his face, nothing new for the young man sitting atop an empire that bore his very name, for the young man that had taken in an even younger, vulnerable girl when she became an orphan, a few years back. The same girl that now stood before him, nervous gaze hardening to mirror his.

For short seconds that felt like long dreary hours, a still silence hugged the two in a freezing embrace, broken only by his constant typing.

For a mere second, the thought to turn around and flee crossed her mind, but her Kaiba imprinted pride kept her bolted to the floor beneath her.

He merely gazed at her then the seat in front of him, no words needed to communicate his intention.

Trying to anchor calmness into her facade, she directed her body forward then into the chair, being cautious about her every move, for she knew the predator that lie inside her cousin, the one that picked up the slightest hint of fear, of hesitation, then used it as a weapon for his anticipated attack.

She felt him wait for her to settle into her seat, she felt the premeditated words sitting upon his closed lips heat up, like a machine ready to fire.

As she willed her spine to stretch until it could no more to hide the coward she knew would eventually come afloat as it always did in the presence of her relative, his slim lips began to part, as he drew a stealthy breath to further ignite the growing fear inside her.

"You need to move out." He finally rasped.

Her body stood still as it digested the words that had fired from his lips, as the turbulent waters of her mind tried so desperately to still themselves after the stone he had so carelessly dropped into them.

For his words were not a question, not a recommendation, they were a command.

"You have inherited the entire dynasty of Kaiba Banks and Hotels from your deceased parents and have done absolutely nothing with them over the course of this year. I refuse to continue supporting you, financially and in any other way you may require." He continued upon receiving nothing but silence.

"I give you one month to find another place, to begin work in at least one bank and leave the house."

His fingers slid an awaiting folder across the desk, leaving it to the mercy of her widened eyes, searching him for any sign of hesitation he might have upon the words he was now pronouncing.

"I've told you before, the death of my parents, the sudden move, it's all been too much, I couldn't possibly hand-" She began, interrupted by his piercing words, swooping in rapidly as the stench of their conversation took a familiar turn.

"Save it. I gave you more than enough time to at least begin looking into reactivating the banks, tell me, have you read any of the files I have sent you?" He asked harshly, leaning in to further aggravate his question.

She gulped as her breath fought for a way out of her lungs, the answer burning at her tongue.

"You would turn your back on your own blood? On your ow-"She began yet again, though her words resulted in yet another futile attempt from her behalf.

"I've heard it before Diana." He cut in as easily, like an eagle swooping down for his meal. Slowly his icy orbs twisted from her face back to the screen in front of him, ending the short conversation.

Her eyes digressed unto the scenery behind him, as if the answers that now felt vital to her existence were to somehow be found far far away from her.

_"Thank you." _She finally whispered hoarsely, somewhat in sarcasm, somewhat sincerely.

With more pride than she had ever wanted to muster, she stood from the chair, taller and stronger than she felt inside.

With secure steps she rushed out of the office, rushed past the secretary sitting in expectant silence, rushed down the countless floors of the damned building and hurried out to the pouring rain.

She let the world bathe her, let the clouds drop unto her the weight she felt constricting her, stealing her of every last ounce of will she could contain. Her bitter tears soon protruded from her glossy eyes, eager to mingle with the raindrops streaking rapidly down her face.

Numb fingers weakly signaled for a cab, feeling like transportation was only one of many needs that now would burden her, feeling like she was signaling for much, much more than that.

At once a bright yellow cab halted in front of her, giving her the temporary shelter her life had always been comprised of.

As she slammed the door shut and turned her gaze to the rear view mirror that held aloft a pair of expectant green eyes, she felt her body begin to tremble, from the cold or the tears she did not know.

As a shaky breath danced upon her lips, she began to utter the one word she always did when the world began to weigh far too much for her feeble strength.

_Home._

Before the thought condensed into words, reality so shockingly settled in. She no longer had a home, or perhaps, she never truly did.

"The Kaiba Manor." She solemnly said, hearing the obedient purr of the engine respond as the car pulled away, further from KaibaCorp and into a direction she no longer knew.


	3. Chapter 3

The blooming night was silent still, unmoving, untouched.

Like the morbid body lying in front of her.

She stood at the foot of the regal staircase, her pure white nightgown now tarnished with crimson specks, her trembling hands stroking at her own face, streaking her childishly plump cheeks with blood, sticking strands of virgin chocolate hair onto her face. The pair of miniature feet that stood anchored to the cool marble floor beneath her felt unresponsive, disconnected.

An eerie blue hue seemed to swirl endlessly around her, like poison that lingered bitterly in the air, like gun powder that remained after the damage had been done, just to assure destiny that the job had, indeed, been completed.

Her young eyes stayed fixated on the man in front of her, despite her heart's eager tugging to look away.

The man's once pale blue eyes were now pale with something else, something empty, something void.

Death.

The moon reflected its silver reign upon his skin, like she was eager to curl her fingers deep into his meat and succumb him to the warm earth waiting below.

His expression was still fresh with life. Something between sick surprise and horrid realization, his frown bent in an inhuman pattern.

Everything around her now seemed strange, distant, like it belonged to someone else, in another world foreign to her own.

The mansion sitting in stunned silence around her that had once felt of comforting embrace now felt like endless suffocation, like someone else's last name was printed on the pearl black iron gate that guarded the family fortress.

Like the initials emblazoned on the small deadly knife lying guiltily on the floor, belonged to someone else's mother. Like the man with outstretched hands and an outstretched mouth lying lifelessly on the floor, was someone else's father.

The furniture, the family portraits, the framed awards, the open door, the curtains that billowed wildly as the fierce night wind blasted in, the memories, the laughs, the love, it all belong to someone else. It had to.

_It had to..._

As she swallowed vigorously and settled her nude body further into the depths of the still tub, she clamped her eyelids shut over the vivid irises that conjured her utmost intimate of memories. The ones that haunted her every nightmare, the ones that chilled her blood into pools at the pit of her stomach every time they rose to the surface of her mind.

She let the silence settle into the room, into the still water, into her glimmering skin, into the tension that she so desperately wished to melt, to drain into the white foam that clung to her body until it was white no more, but held the color of pain, of frustration.

A small bubble elevated itself unto the surface of the water and met her now open eyes as she heaved out a heavy sigh. The glossy surface of the bubble reflected her own eyes peering in, her worn expression filling the insides of the small capsule, as if she could empty herself into the foreign world with just one gaze.

She watched the few strands of chocolate hair that coiled from her bun and slithered unto her bare neck, the one that creased into prominent clavicles that dug almost immediately into heaps of foam. She watched the small quiver of her rosy lips, the lost gaze that traveled the rainbow contour of the bubble, tracing it endlessly only to return to the same pair of eyes.

As she let her stare fuse with the one in her reflection, she couldn't help but feel someone else's presence in it, something that belonged to another being.

His striking resemblance in her features crept into her skin, up her throat in fear and evaporated unto her skin in the form of effusive goosebumps.

_Seto Kaiba._

Remarkably silent, yet remarkably loud, just like her father had once been, just like every man in her family had ever been, as far as she could remember.

He spoke only a few words upon their introduction years ago, mostly commands and instructions about the clandestine shade of their new found familiarity, only to admit to it years later when realization sunk in that surely, being pitiful with a weak family member he didn't even know existed would boost the humane said that many doubted he had.

Still, everything his lips did not translate, his eyes spoke in the clearest of tones to her.

Their opaque shade told of the long hours of work they'd been submitted to, the creases that rounded them told her of the process of thoughts that eternally ran through his mind like a river rushing through a valley until it wore through the mightiest of mountains. The rasp in his voice gave testimony to the old wear of young years.

It didn't take her to long to map him out in her mind, his blind spots, his strong spots. His secrets and his tactics to wind the world around his fingers only to let it slowly unfurl deep into his consent and desires. He was a rational man, nothing ever crossed his lips, his heart, his ears, until it crossed his mind first.

Everything in his path either aided him, served some benefit in his life, or it simply did not exist to him.

One of said things was her.

He provided her with a lavish room, decorated with impeccable taste, daunted with a perfect gamma of colors that clashed in utter harmony. Everything was set in the right place, in the right size in an almost intimidating form. The bathroom was on its own, the size of another large bedroom, elegance carved into every marble detail.

His intentions were all too clear to her, provide the teen with a home, with a shelter to reside in, and keeping her out of his hair would be a no brainer.

The words he had spoken to her earlier were only a cautious echo of what she already felt circling her whenever she was in his presence, his menace, his threat.

Walking alongside him was similar to walking along shards of the sharpest glass, gently pricking the soft underside of her bare feet in a mighty reminder of what precautions she was to heed.

Another lonely sigh escaped her rasp lips, her gaze carefully rolling across the room that extended itself before her.

Feeling so alone, so desperate in a home that contained so much poisoned her sanity with a horrible juxtaposition that she could never escape no matter how fast she crawled herself away.

The skylight that hugged the vertices of every angle of the cathedral imitating ceiling, poured in little light, for daylight was beginning to drown itself in the depths of the oncoming night, taking with it the last energetic breaths of the city that slowly tucked itself into the tender colors of twilight.

Every day that folded itself into and end was but a reminder of another fragment of sand that drained itself unto the other half of the hourglass, slowly slipping out of her hands.

As the only Kaiba child in her family, the family's vast collection of lavish hotels and banks were left in her hands only, although she was not yet of age, she was due to begin paperwork for their administration and monthly tours to attain knowledge of their innermost works, none of which she had the courage to even begin, something Seto Kaiba was fond of bringing up at every opportunity that rose upon his horizons.

Just yesterday he had blatantly informed her that it was her and only her duty to ease the bank's primary investors preoccupations concerning the large sums of money that dangled dangerously in her hands, in the form of a press conference, the likes of which she simply loathed.  
>For spouting lies and jumbling words together until they appeared nothing but firm promises did nothing but remind her of just how dark and murky the depths of her future were.<p>

One long delicate finger reached out and penetrated the shimmering bubble with a fierceness that erupted into a small _pop _as the shards flew into all sorts of directions and she wondered if she too, would break and scatter with one single push.

* * *

><p>The strong pounding of his own heart revived his senses. It seemed to throw itself against his chest and skull in loud protest to the events of the night before, willing him to awake and assess the damage for himself.<p>

As he tore apart his eyelids, a calming darkness greeted his sore orbs, familiar surroundings easing his newborn confusion.

Heavy curtains had been hastily thrown over the windows, blocking even the smallest rays of sunlight from the lavish chambers of the young heir.

Clothing, pillows and bed sheets lined the polished floor as exotic fragrances lined the indents of his bare chest, both a testament to the events of the previous night. A torn fragment of paper with a series of rapidly scribbled numbers was the only presence to awake next to him.

A deep groan escaped his lips as he eased his body upward, the turbulent rush of expired alcohol pulling his senses towards the ground like a rushing waterfall crashing down on his body.

A spinning clock in front of him flashed dark red numbers that wound together to form what seemed like an infinite equation that he was in no condition to solve. His hands raised themselves and took hold of his head, as if to stop the endless motion, if only long enough to make out the time.

Yami Motou, famous heir to the Clearbridge Country Clubs, only and eldest son to Melanie and Augustus Motou, with three little girls trailing behind, meaning he was to be the center of the spotlight.

Reckless nights and long slept days were well amongst his playboy reputation. After entire summers spent in the company of his father, aiding and assisting in the management of the clubs, Yami was now granted an assortment of liberties as his adult age rapidly approached.

It seemed now that those liberties were taking their expenses on him and his life decisions, for more often than not, he found himself wound up in the arms of a strange woman, in a strange bed and with an estranged heart inside him, growing more and more everyday. It didn't particularly bother him, but it also didn't very well suit him nor his future plans in life, the likes of which were as tangled as his love affairs.

A delicate knock on the door seemed to ripple the effect and break into the swift tide of nausea that began to waver in his stomach. A croaked response was as much as he could muster from his sore chords.

Matthew, the family housekeeper, entered the dark bedroom with a silver tray in his hands, a gleaming set of fine porcelain perfectly placed among it, a small folded letter placed gently between the sugar and cream.

"Master Motou, I trust you're awake." He announced in his deep gravel voice, his firm hands placing the tray on the coffee table that sat in the middle of the large bedroom.

With the velocity that his expertise promised, a steaming hot cup of coffee was prepared, an elegant swirl of cream expressing the careful art with which it was created.

Far too many times had Matthew found Yami in this state, far too many times had he simply brought up coffee and kept quiet about it, this time he would no doubt, follow suit.

"Thank you." Came the muttered response as his trembling fingers took hold of the porcelain cup that clinked against his teeth as he slowly brought it up to his desert dry lips.

The strength of the caramel liquid rapidly began to churn his insides, activating the torrent of blood and oxygen his body so helplessly seemed to lack. The leftover alcohol and diligent caffeine seemed to struggle with one another for flashes of time, one overpowering then the next, absorbing all of Yami's energy in retreating stillness to his turbulent system.

After a few cautious sips and a few quiet minutes, Matthew retrieved the envelope that had been patiently positioned on the silver tray.

"This arrived last night and seeing as to how your parents have not yet arrived from Aspen, I thought to bring it to you, Master Motou."

Yami set down the lilac porcelain on the small nightstand beside him and took the crisp envelope between his fingers, his curiosity gently peaked.

The world had stopped spinning and everything seemed to seep back into is original form. The clock now announced late hours of the afternoon and the slight disarray of his bedroom only exposed what he already knew occurred.

Distant sounds of play emerged from the room down the hall, the girl's room he was certain. A pungent aroma of beaking bread crept in through the small creak of the open door and outside he could hear the distant sounds of afternoon traffic.

Clearing his head and straining his pupils to meet with the object at hand he realized the cream colored envelope between his fingers bore an all too familiar insignia on the front. In simple cursive, the name of St. Bartholomew Hospital was etched above his own last name.

Carefully he peeled away at the sticker that bound the letter closed, finding inside an invitation to a charity dinner that very evening, honoring all of the hospital's primary donors, those of which included his parents.

A quick skim of the letter raised no interest to the young man, for it merely sweetened the offer by praising his parents and their hard work at achieving the region's finest country clubs, those that produced the money the Motou's had "so selflessly donated to those that were most in need."

It had been signed and stamped by the Charity Coordinator and included a small but detailed map of the location and how to reach it, as well as a list of the night's most important guests.

Names that were to easily forgotten to his untrained mind filled the edges of his amethyst irises, none sparking particular interest to him, none but one.

At the very end of the list was one last name that no person on Earth was ignorant to, one that easily ignited a variety of emotions, thoughts and opinions upon being mentioned. Though the name written in elegant cursive, plain and simple as it may be, it ignited but one special interest to this young man.

_The Kaiba's. _

"Matthew, arrange for the nanny to sit tonight for the girls, I'm afraid I won't be home." He stated, his swelling confidence quickly shattering the effects of overnight toxicity, his mind racing in an endless maze of thoughts.

"I have a date."


End file.
